In 2017 Trump expressed pity for the ‘beautiful babies’ killed in a gas attack on Khan Shaykhun in Syria before launching airstrikes against President Assad's regime. Images of suffering children in world politics are often used as a synecdoche for a broader conflict or disaster. Injured, suffering, or dead; the ways in which images of children circulate in global public discourse must be critically examined to uncover the assumptions that operate in these environments. This article explores reactions to images of children by representatives and leaders of states to trace the interconnected affective and political dimensions of these images. In contrast to attending to the expected empathetic responses prompted by images of children, this article particularly focuses on when such images prompt bellicose foreign policy decision-making. In doing this, the article forwards a way of thinking about images as contentious affective objects in international relations. The ways in which images of children's bodies and suffering are strategically deployed by politicians deserves closer scrutiny to uncover the visual politics of childhood inherent in these moments of international politics and policy-making.

When powerful liberal democratic states are found to be complicit in extreme violations of human rights, how do they respond and why do they respond as they do? Drawing on the example of the United Kingdom's complicity in torture since 9/11, this article demonstrates how reluctant the UK has been to permit a full reckoning with its torturous past. We demonstrate that successive UK governments engaged in various forms of denial, obfuscation and attempts to obstruct investigation and avoid accountability. The net effect of their responses has been to deny the victims redress, through adequate judicial processes, and to deny the public adequate state accountability. These responses are not simply aimed at shielding from prosecution the perpetrators and those who have oversight of them, nor preventing political embarrassment. The various forms of denial and obstruction are also designed to ensure that collusion can continue uninterrupted. A core concern of intelligence officials and ministers has been to prevent any process that would lead to a comprehensive prohibition on involvement in operations where torture and cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment are a real possibility. The door remains wide open, and deliberately so, for British involvement in torture.

For decades ‘youth bulge’ theory has dominated understandings of youth in mainstream International Relations. Youth bulge theory has also become part of some public media analyses, mainstream political rhetoric, and even officially enshrined in the foreign policy of some states. Through the ‘youth bulge’ lens, youth—especially males—have been presented as current or future perpetrators of violence. However, this article argues that the youth bulge thesis postulated in mainstream IR is based on flawed theoretical assumptions. In particular, supporters of youth bulge theory fail to engage with existing research by feminist IR scholars and thus take on a biological essentialist approach. This has led to theoretical and practical misunderstandings of the roles youth play in relation to conflict, peace and security. These partial and biased understandings have also resulted in less effective policy-making. In critically reflecting on the ‘youth bulge’ thesis, this article argues that applying gender analysis is crucial to understanding the involvement of young people in general—and young men in particular—in conflict. Doing so will contribute to advancing more accurate analysis in scholarship and policy-making.

This article uses the 2019 Eurovision Song Contest (ESC) that took place in Tel Aviv to explore how cultural mega-events serve both as political arenas and as tools for identity construction, negotiation and contestation. These processes of identity politics are all conducted across national–subnational–international–transnational levels. The hosting of mega-events fleshes out these multiple processes in a very strong manner. We first discuss the politics of hosting mega-events in general. We then examine the identity politics associated more specifically with the Eurovision Song Contest, before examining in depth the complex forms of identity politics emerging around the competition following the 2018 Israeli victory. We suggest that it is important to study together the multiple processes—domestic, international and transnational—of identity politics that take place around the competition, as they interact with each other. Consequently, we follow the various stakeholders involved at these different levels and their interactions. We examine the internal identity negotiation process in Israel surrounding the event, the critical actors debating how to use the stage to challenge the liberal, western, ‘normal’ identity Israel hoped to project in the contest and how other stakeholders (participating states, national broadcasting agencies, participating artists) reacted to them, and finally we examine the behaviour of the institution in charge, the European Broadcasting Union, and national governments. We contribute to the study of mega-events as fields of contestation, to the understanding of the complex, multilevel nature of national identity construction, negotiation and contestation in the current era, and more broadly to the role that popular culture plays in this context.

Russia’s military strategy is increasingly blurring the boundaries between war and peace. As the nature of warfare changes, the Kremlin is adapting its strategies to pursue conflict, especially through non-military means - below the threshold of armed violence. 

Russian military tactics are often mistaken for strategy in the West. Oscar Jonson, author of The Russian Understanding of War, will talk through this debate and explore how the Russian leadership now understands military strategy in the context of modern warfare. Mathieu Boulègue will address the more operational aspects of contemporary warfare for Russia, notably grey zone operations. 

The widespread practice of illicit acquisition of a business or part of a business in the former Soviet states, known as ‘reiderstvo’ or asset-grabbing, is a major risk that disincentivises investment in the region.

It is distinct from the way corporate raiding occurs in the West and enabled by factors such as corruption and weak protection of property rights.

This roundtable will assess the practice of corporate raiding in Russia, Ukraine and Kazakhstan: its evolution over time, knock-on effects and potential solutions. The speakers will also address the implications for the UK legal system and possible policy responses.

Belarus rarely appears in the Western media, and when it does, the story usually does not go beyond the old trope of ‘Europe’s last dictatorship’. Since Russia’s annexation of Crimea, Western views on Belarus have diverged. For some it is an oasis of stability in a fractured region, while for others, it is a country in jeopardy and soon to become the Kremlin’s next target. Some applaud progress within the Belarusian political system and society while others see only stagnation.

This expert roundtable, to be held soon after the Belarusian local parliamentary elections, aims to disentangle these contradictory views by highlighting the key political trends to watch in Belarus.

Attendance at this event is by invitation only. 

Leaders of the resource-rich Central Asian region have the propensity to remain in power until mortality dictates otherwise. Much like the UK and Brexit, however, few wanted to see Central Asia’s longest reigning ruler, Kazakhstan’s septuagenarian president Nursultan Nazarbayev, crash out without a deal.

The sudden departure of the country’s official leader of the nation with no clear succession plan could have led to investment chaos, intra-elite fighting and the unravelling in a matter of months of a system he had built over decades, à la Uzbekistan following the death of long-serving autocrat Islam Karimov in 2016.

In order to avoid just such a ‘no-deal’ scenario and ensure the continuity of his policies, in March Nazarbayev carefully choreographed his own resignation and the election of a hand-picked successor, President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev, while retaining plum positions and powers for himself.

Tokayev’s assumption of the presidency was accompanied by protesters in the streets, increasing wealth inequality, rising Sinophobia among rank-and-file Kazakhstanis, a hard-to-kick economic dependence on oil revenues and a lack of clarity as to which leader—the old or the new president—would actually be calling the shots. But, amidst this plethora of concerns, as argued in a recent Chatham House report, Kazakhstan: Tested by Transition, one bright spot has been the tangible growth of intra-Central Asian cooperation, with the Nazarbayev-Tokayev ruling duo appearing eager to improve the regional dialogue.

Kazakhstan has long shaped its identity as a Eurasian state that has acted as more of an intermediary between Russia and Central Asia than as an integral part of the Central Asian region. But since 2017, in particular, Kazakhstan has been increasingly looking for opportunities to boost hitherto weak cooperation with its Central Asian neighbours. While this is first and foremost owing to the liberalization of Uzbekistan’s large market, there are other factors at work that get less airplay.

One such factor is a perceptible disentangling from the Kremlin’s policy directions as Kazakhstan has come to view Russia’s foreign policy as increasingly neo-colonial. The example of the Russia-led Eurasian Economic Union is in many respects more off-putting than inspiring, and Nur-Sultan does not want to be locked tightly into the union’s economic orbit. And in distancing itself slightly from Moscow in order to limit Russian leverage in its affairs, Nur-Sultan has shown itself to be more open to Central Asian regional initiatives.

As part of the leadership’s plan to offset oil dependence, Kazakhstan aspires to become the transport, telecommunications and investment hub for Eurasian integration. The intense focus on connectivity and the development of logistical arteries and infrastructure could have the knock-on effect of boosting trade within the Central Asian region and reducing transit times, which are currently greater than in most other parts of the globe.

In addition, demographic trends and educational shifts that favour ethnic Kazakhs, together with a growing ethno-nationalist narrative, have allowed the state’s leadership to identify more closely with Kazakhstan’s common Central Asian heritage and, by extension, a common Central Asian region—although Kazakhstan’s leadership still remains eager to demonstrate that the country is not just another ‘stan’. The coming to power of President Mirziyoyev in Uzbekistan appears to have made Kazakhstan more aware of the interconnectedness of the two countries in terms of geographical location and potential economic complementarities, as well as culture and history.

Not least, there is a growing recognition among the Central Asian states themselves—including isolationist Turkmenistan to a degree—that deepening regional trade is mutually beneficial, especially given the constraints associated with Russia’s economic problems. The strengthening of Kazakhstan’s ties with Uzbekistan has slowly kick-started regional cooperation as a whole: trade turnover between the Central Asian states in 2018 grew by 35 per cent on the previous year.

But both Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan are keen to stress that there is no discussion of integration or institutionalization, not least because previous attempts at integration have been overtaken by Russia, leaving Central Asia without its own coordinating body.

The official consensus in Kazakhstan is that Uzbekistan’s economic reforms after years of isolation will spur ‘a healthy rivalry’ and ultimately boost Kazakhstan’s own economy, in so far as the competition for foreign investment will require both countries to work harder to improve their respective business and regulatory environments.

At the unofficial level, however, some Kazakhstani analysts view Uzbekistan’s rise as potentially unprofitable, given the possible diversion of some investments and market activity from Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan. Moreover, Uzbekistan has the advantage of having undergone a clear change of executive, while it remains unclear which developments await Kazakhstan once First President Nazarbayev leaves the scene for good.

It can certainly be argued that Uzbekistan does pose a potential threat in the long-term to Kazakhstan’s entrenched position as Central Asia’s economic powerhouse: Uzbekistan’s population is one-and-a-half times bigger, even if its nominal GDP is three times smaller. Uzbekistan has a bigger market and a well-developed industrial sector, and is already the regional leader in terms of security. But it is not as though the world’s interest is moving from Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan; rather, Uzbekistan is in the process of trying to catch up.

Despite this relatively upbeat picture, Kazakhstan’s combined trade with the other Central Asian states accounts for less than 5 per cent of its total volume of foreign trade—a figure that cannot begin to equal its trade with Russia, China, and Europe. As a result, Kazakhstan will continue to give greater importance to positioning itself as a global player than as a regional leader.

This article was originally published in The Diplomat.

In January 2019, the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople granted the Orthodox Church of Ukraine a self-governing status, ending its centuries-long subordination to the Moscow Patriarchate. The Russian Orthodox Church condemned this decision and severed its links with the Constantinople Patriarchate.

More than 500 parishes have left the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate to join the newly independent Ukrainian Orthodox Church (UOC).

What challenges is the new church facing? Has its independence been recognized by other Orthodox churches? How is it affected by the schism between Constantinople and Moscow? What are UOC’s priorities in relations with the West and with the Orthodox world?

What does Britain’s departure from the EU mean for the country’s policy towards the South Caucasus, a small region on the periphery of Europe, fractured by conflict? Although Britain is not directly involved in any of the region’s peace processes (except in the case of the Geneva International Discussions on conflicts involving Georgia, as an EU member state), it has been a significant stakeholder in South Caucasian stability since the mid-1990s.

Most obviously, Britain has been the single largest foreign investor in Caspian oil and gas. Yet beyond pipelines, Britain also has been a significant investor in long-term civil society-led strategies to build peace in the South Caucasus.

Through what was then the Global Conflict Prevention Pool, in the early 2000s the Department for International Development (DfID) pioneered large-scale peacebuilding interventions, such as the Consortium Initiative, addressing Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict, in 2003-09. These built civic networks in the South Caucasus and partnerships with British-based NGOs.

This experience left a strong intellectual legacy. British expertise on the South Caucasus, including specific expertise on its conflicts, is highly regarded in the region and across the world.

There is also a strong tradition of British scholarship on the Caucasus, and several British universities offer Caucasus-related courses. Through schemes such as the John Smith Fellowship Trust, the Robert Bosch Stiftung Academy Fellowship at Chatham House and Chevening Scholarships, significant numbers of young leaders from the South Caucasus have spent time in British institutions and built effective relationships within them.

Three challenges

This niche as a champion of long-term, strategic peacebuilding and repository of area-specific knowledge should not be lost as Britain’s relationship with the EU and regional actors evolves. This can be ensured through awareness of three challenges confronting a post-Brexit Caucasus policy.

The first challenge for London is to avoid framing a regional policy in the South Caucasus as an extension of a wider ‘Russia policy’. Deteriorating Russian-British relations in recent years strengthen a tendency to view policies in the European neighbourhood through the traditional prisms of Cold War and Russian-Western rivalries.

Yet an overwhelming focus on Russia fails to capture other important aspects of political developments in South Caucasus conflicts. Although often referred to as ‘breakaway’ or ‘occupied’ territories, Abkhazia, South Ossetia and Nagorny Karabakh are not ungoverned spaces. They have evolved into examples of what scholars call ‘de facto states’ that, to differing degrees, control territory, provide governance and exercise internal sovereignty.

Few disagree that these entities would not survive without external patronage. But neither does that patronage explain their sustainability on its own. Russia-centricity diminishes Britain’s latitude to engage on the full range of local drivers sustaining these entities, contributing instead to less effective policies predicated on competition and containment.

A second and related challenge is to maintain and develop Britain’s position on the issue of engaging populations in these entities. De facto states appear to stand outside of the international rules-based system. Yet in many cases, their civil societies are peopled by skilled and motivated activists who want their leaders to be held accountable according to international rules.

Strategies of isolation ignore these voices and contribute instead to fearful and demoralized communities less likely to engage in a transformation of adversarial relationships. Making this case with the wider international community, and facilitating the funding of local civil societies in contested territories, would be important steps in sustaining an effective British policy on the resolution of conflicts.    

The third challenge for Britain is to maintain a long-term approach to the conflicts of the South Caucasus alongside potential short-term imperatives in other policy fields, as relationships shift post-Brexit.

In this fluid international environment, the Foreign and Commonwealth Office has a role to play both as an internal champion of a long-term peacebuilding strategy and a coordinator of British efforts with those of multilateral actors engaged in the South Caucasus. These include the United Nations, the EU’s Special Representative for the South Caucasus and the Crisis in Georgia and OSCE’s Special Representative for the OSCE Chairperson-in-Office for the South Caucasus, all of which have built relationships with relevant actors on the ground.

Recommendations

Britain’s niche as a champion and advocate of a strategic approach to peaceful change can be secured post-Brexit in the following ways.  

First, in-house expertise is crucial to effective peacebuilding programming. The Foreign Office’s research analysts play a vital role in generating independent internal advice and liaising with academic and NGO communities. Their role could be supplemented by the reinstatement of a regional conflict adviser post, based in Tbilisi, tasked with strengthening Britain’s regional presence on conflict issues and coordinating policy at a regional level.

This post, with a remit to cover conflicts and build up area knowledge and relationships can contribute significantly to working closely with local civil societies, where so much expertise and knowledge resides, as well as other stakeholders.

Second, programming should build in conflict sensitivity by dissociating eligibility from contested political status. This can encourage local populations to take advantage of opportunities for funding, study, comparative learning and professional development irrespective of the status of the entity where they reside.

The Chevening Scholarships are an excellent example, whereby applicants can select ‘South Caucasus’ as their affiliated identity from a drop-down menu. This enables citizens from across the region to apply irrespective of the status of the territory in which they live.   

Finally, a holistic understanding of peace is crucial. Programming in unrecognized or partially-recognized entities should acknowledge that effective peacebuilding needs to embrace political dynamics and processes beyond cross-conflict contact and confidence building. Local actors in such entities may find peacebuilding funding streams defined exclusively in terms of cross-conflict contact more politically risky and ineffective in addressing domestic blockages to peace.

While cross-conflict dynamics remain critical, ‘single-community’ programming framed in terms of civic participation, inclusion, civil society capacity-building, minority and human rights in contested territories, and building the confidence from within to engage in constructive dialogue, are no less important.

The ’global Britain’ promised by Brexit remains a fanciful idea. Quiet, painstaking work to build on the legacies of a long-term British investment in a peace strategy for the South Caucasus, on the other hand, is a realistic and attainable goal.

The scale of the changes in Russia’s political system is yet to be fully understood, as new suggestions for revising the constitution appear almost daily. This event will discuss the risks of President Putin’s 15 January announcement, and what strategies Russia’s non-systemic opposition might now deploy in response.

After a tumultuous 2019 when Moldova witnessed the end of the Plahotniuc era, the country seems bound for an equally difficult year ahead.
 
Increasing international isolation, a temporary working coalition between the Socialists and the Democrats, concentration of power and resources in the hands of President Igor Dodon, and presidential elections in autumn are among the ordeals to be discussed at this event. Ms Sandu will assess how Moldova can move beyond these challenges and return to a path for sustainable democratic reform. 

Persistent internet rumours claiming the coronavirus outbreak originated from a secret American pharmaceutical company with the aim of destroying China from within were quickly discredited. Pop culture fans recognised the supposed activities of the Umbrella Corporation as being from the famous Japanese video games series Resident Evil.

However, although fake news, it can likely be attributed to Russian trolls conducting this and other similar activities online, especially when considered within the wider context of how the Russian regime is using this worldwide crisis to further destabilize the West and test its resolve.

Russian trolls never sleep

Russia’s COVID-19 related actions first and foremost take the form of a vast information warfare campaign, with media outlets simultaneously downplaying the threat of the pandemic - ‘it is less dangerous than seasonal flu’ - while stoking fear about what is happening elsewhere in Europe.

For the domestic audience in Russia, some media are reporting the pandemic marks the collapse of the Western world and liberalism altogether, calling it a form of collective punishment. Other point out how fast liberal democracies have curbed individual and entrepreneurial freedoms in order to slow down the viral outbreak, and seek to diminish the credibility of the Western response to the crisis.

Exploiting the coronavirus crisis in this way is a new low in Russia’s wider political warfare campaign to undermine global governance overall, as these activities are detrimental to people's very safety. For example, in Ukraine, it is thought a Russian-engineered disinformation operation may have caused the outburst of violence in the city of Novi Sanzhary following the arrival of evacuees from China.

In the military realm, fake news has been targeting the US-led multinational exercise DEFENDER-Europe 2020. The Russian leadership criticized the exercise as an offensive ‘anti-Russian scenario’ but then used accompanying propaganda that it could actively facilitate the spread of COVID-19 across Europe because of the arrival and movement of large numbers of troops.

The large-scale drills were planned to involve 18 participating nations and should have taken place across ten European countries from April to May 2020. But the exercise has now been scaled down – as has the Russian disinformation targeting it.

And while the world is pre-occupied with managing COVID-19, Moscow is able to grow bolder in its provocations. Recent air incursions were reported into Irish controlled airspace as well as over the North Sea. Although this practice is - unfortunately - routine as part of Russian constant military sabre-rattling, it does increase the risk of tactical errors and miscalculation.

Self-isolation, Kremlin style

Meanwhile, just when a global response is needed to fight the pandemic, Moscow’s response has been, at best, self-serving. On March 22, Russian military reportedly started sending medical equipment and supplies to Italy. While the nature and the scope of this assistance can be doubted, it still represents a charm offensive for Russia to be brought back in from the cold in Europe - since successive Italian leaderships have been accommodating to the Kremlin. And sending virologists to Italy might also be a useful learning curve for Russia’s regime.

But within Russia itself, Vladimir Putin does have to face the problem that, on top of all the projected social and healthcare costs, the coronavirus is also having negative political consequences. On March 25, the ‘popular vote’ - a mock referendum designed to rubber-stamp Putin’s recent constitutional changes - was pushed back. And the Ministry of Communications has been forced to postpone a major exercise aimed at ensuring the ‘stable and safe operation of Runet’ - namely eliminating vulnerabilities in the Russian ‘sovereign’ internet to potential external threats.

Certainly it would be naive to believe Moscow will put self-interest to one side during this pandemic. ‘International distancing’ is not new for the Kremlin, and Russia has been practising self-isolation since at least 2008 through its own actions, most notably in Georgia and Ukraine.

Its self-perception as a ‘besieged fortress’ is being reinforced by this crisis and Russia will, at the very least, likely come out of the crisis feeling vindicated in its view that internationalism is dying or already dead.

With the health systems of many countries under massive strain, and societal resilience being tested by social distancing, the Kremlin continues to probe for weaknesses, and is also carefully watching other countries’ responses to the crisis in terms of adaptation and mobilization of resources.

COVID-19 provides a major intelligence-gathering opportunity for Moscow to learn how well others can implement wartime-like planning in peacetime. In a rapidly changing world, Russia is still Russia.

Both Russia and China have mounted combined charm offensives and disinformation campaigns on the back of the pandemic. Shipments of ‘aid’ – reportedly of questionable utility and quality - have gone hand in hand with a concerted effort to deflect any blame from China for the early spread, and an ongoing drive by Russia to undermine states’ confidence and have sanctions lifted.

These concurrent operations have very different objectives, as Russia seeks to subvert international order while China is continuing its bid to demonstrate global leadership - but in both cases, they are seeking long-term gains by exploiting the inattention and distraction of their targets.

Both seek to present themselves as globally responsible stakeholders, but for divergent reasons – especially China which needs the rest of the world to recover and return to stability to ensure its own economic recovery. But despite this, the two campaigns appear superficially similar.

Fertile ground for disinformation

One reason lies in the unique nature of the current crisis. Unlike political issues that are local or regional in nature, COVID-19 affects everybody worldwide. The perceived lack of reliable information about the virus provides fertile ground for information and disinformation campaigns, especially feeding on fear, uncertainty and doubt. But Russia in particular would not be succeeding in its objectives without mis-steps and inattention by Western governments.

Confused reporting on Russia sending medical supplies to the United States showed Moscow taking advantage of a US administration in apparent disarray. Claims Russia was sending ’humanitarian aid’ were only belatedly countered by the US State Department pointing out it had been paid for. Meanwhile the earlier arrival of Russian military equipment in Italy also scored a propaganda victory for Russia, facilitated by curious passivity by the Italian government.

In both cases Russia also achieved secondary objectives. With the United States, Russia scored bonus points by shipping equipment produced by a subsidiary of a company under US sanctions. In the case of Italy, Russian state media made good use of misleading or heavily edited video clips to give the impression of widespread Italian acclaim for Russian aid, combined with disdain for the efforts of the EU.

Beijing’s external information campaigns have sought to deflect or defuse criticism of its early mishandling and misinformation on coronavirus and counter accusations of secrecy and falsifying data while also pursuing an opportunity to exercise soft power. For Moscow, current efforts boost a long-standing and intensive campaign to induce the lifting of sanctions, demonstrating if nothing else that sanctions are indeed an effective measure. Official and unofficial lobbying has intensified in numerous capital cities, and will inevitably find supporters.

But both the aid and the information campaigns are seriously flawed. While appropriate and useful aid for countries that are struggling should of course be welcomed, both Russian and Chinese equipment delivered to Europe has repeatedly been found to be inappropriate or defective. 

Russian photographs of cardboard boxes stacked loose and unsecured in a transport aircraft bound for the United States sparked alarm and disbelief among military and aviation experts - and there has still been no US statement on what exactly was purchased, and whether it was found to be fit for purpose when it arrived.

Reporting from Italy that the Russian equipment delivered there was ‘80% useless’ has not been contradicted by the Italian authorities. In fact, although the Italian sources criticizing Russia remain anonymous it is striking that - President Trump aside - no government has publicly endorsed materials and assistance received from Russia as actually being useful and helpful.

Even in Serbia, with its traditionally close ties with Russia, the only information forthcoming on the activities of the Russian Nuclear, Biological and Chemical Protection Troops and their equipment that arrived on April 3 was from Russian press releases.

Both countries’ strategic communications efforts are similarly fallible. China’s notoriously heavy-handed approach to its critics is of only limited use in the face of such a severe and immediate threat. One suggestion that the virus originated in the US – an early response to US criticism – has already been walked back by the Chinese diplomat who made it.

And Russia continues to be capable of spectacularly misjudging its targets. When investigative journalists looked more closely at the nature of the assistance to Italy, Russia’s official response was rage and personal threats, laying bare the real nature of the campaign and immediately alienating many of those whom Moscow had sought to win over.

Errors and deficiencies such as these provide opportunities to mitigate the worst side-effects of the campaigns. And actions by individuals can also mitigate much of the impact. The most effective disinformation plays on deeply emotional issues and triggers visceral rather than rational reactions.

Advocates of ’informational distancing’ as well as social distancing suggest a tactical pause to assess information calmly, instead of reacting or spreading it further unthinkingly. This approach would bolster not only calm dispassionate assessment of the real impact of Russian and Chinese actions, but also counter spreading of misinformation on the pandemic as a whole - especially when key sources of disinformation are national leaders seeking to politicize or profit from the crisis.

Limitations of Russian and Chinese altruism must be stated clearly and frankly to fill gaps in public understanding. Where help is genuine, it should of course be welcomed: but if it is the case that assistance received from Moscow or Beijing is not appropriate, not useful, or not fit for purpose, this should be acknowledged publicly.

Even without central direction or coordination with other Russian strategic communications efforts, the self-perpetuating Russian disinformation ecosystem continues to push narratives designed to undermine confidence in institutions and their ability to deal with the crisis. This too must continue to be monitored closely and countered where it matters.

In all cases, miscalculations by Russia or China that expose the true intent of their campaigns – no matter how different their objectives might be - should be watched for closely and highlighted where they occur.

Despite the enormity of the present emergency it is not a time for any government to relax its vigilance over longer-term threats. States must not lose sight of manoeuvres seeking to exploit weakness and distraction. If Russia and China emerge from the current crisis with enhanced authority and unjustifiably restored reputations, this will make it still harder to resist their respective challenges to the current rules-based international order in the future.

Soon after assuming power in 1994, President Aliaksandr Lukashenka turned his back on democratic norms and overpowered the Belarusian political elite. However, the influence of the governing elite in Belarus is growing again. It seems likely that the current governing class could rule the country after Lukashenka leaves. It is thus important to study Belarusian elites not only to understand the current regime, but also to better forecast and navigate the political system that will one day replace it. 

This study group aims to disentangle how the Belarusian political system works, outline the types of individuals that make up the Belarusian ruling elite, assess the interaction of the elite and institutions with the West, and suggest changes that Western political actors might make to their approach to the Belarusian ruling class.

Since the World Health Organisation (WHO) declared COVID-19 a pandemic, few countries have chosen to ignore social distancing recommendations. But, even among those states which have, the Belarusian official response to its epidemic remains unique.

President Aliaksandr Lukashenka’s statements that vodka, sauna and tractors are protecting Belarusians from coronavirus attracted amused attention in international media. Lukashenka also described other societies’ response to COVID-19 as ‘a massive psychosis’.

Although Lukashenka is notorious for his awkward style of public communication, the fact that Belarus is refusing to impose comprehensive confinement measures is of concern. Belarusians continue to work, play football and socialise.

Lukashenka, himself playing ice hockey in front of state cameras, claims it is the best way to stay healthy. Belarusian authorities clearly appear to be in denial – and this could have dire humanitarian consequences.

From denial to half measures

Belarus actually has one of the largest numbers of hospital beds in the world per 1,000 of the population. But in the absence of quarantine measures its health system, already crippled by corruption and embezzlement, is likely to be overwhelmed.

Patients being treated for pneumonia in hospitals have suggested medical staff are uninformed and inadequately equipped. It is claimed doctors are not reporting COVID-19 as the suspected cause of death, either through a lack of testing or for fear of reprisals.

Observers believe the real mortality rate is already well above official figures (40 deaths as of 16 April). Based on an Imperial College London model, between 15,000 and 32,000 people could die under the current mild confinement regime – and such a high death toll would hugely impact the country’s political stability. Citing personal data protection, the Ministry of Health has imposed a total news blackout; the only cluster officially acknowledged so far is the city of Vitsebsk.

Although specific Belarusian cities and some individuals started changing their approach – by extending school vacations or cancelling weddings – such measures remain half-hearted.

Clearly a major reason for such an apparently irresponsible reaction is that Belarus cannot afford a massive lockdown that would freeze its already underdeveloped economy and drive it deeper into recession. Unlike many other nations, Belarus lacks budgetary resources for a sizable stimulus package. But a delayed response might backfire on the economy.

Economic recession has been forecast to amount to at least 10% of GDP. For Lukashenka, who openly challenged conventional wisdom regarding the need for quarantine and isolation, such an economic downturn would harm his confidence rating in the eyes of Belarusian voters, mindful of the state’s mismanagement of the crisis. And it could create doubt within the ruling elite itself, with Lukashenka seeking re-election for a sixth mandate in late August.

Against this backdrop, a radicalization of the opposition-minded part of society is also to be expected, with greater reliance on social networks in the face of official secrecy and disinformation. The expected response of the regime is then likely to be pre-emptive repression. Evidence is emerging that law enforcement agencies have already stepped up judicial and paralegal harassment of dissenters, notably independent journalists and bloggers.

Russia’s initial reluctance to address the coronavirus crisis may also have influenced Belarus. Lukashenka and his administration often react to public health challenges by the Soviet rulebook, reminiscent of the Soviet authorities’ mismanagement of the Chernobyl disaster in 1986.

Russia has unilaterally closed its borders with Belarus and, as bilateral relations continue to deteriorate, this casts further doubt on the viability of the Union State of Belarus and Russia. Pro-Russian media forecast Moscow will be unwilling to alleviate the expected socio-economic crisis, as it continues to reject Minsk’s demands regarding subsidised oil deliveries. Yet the Kremlin might use the crisis as an opportunity to resume its integrationist pressure on Belarus.

China, with which Belarus engaged in a seemingly privileged strategic partnership in the 2010s, was actually the first country to dispatch humanitarian aid to beef up Belarusian capacity to fight the virus.

But Minsk should not expect Beijing to rescue its economy and, unless it commits to more internal reforms, Belarus is not likely to receive much from the EU either. The regime has already applied to the IMF for emergency financial support, but conditions are attached and, even if successful, the funds would amount to no more than $900m.

The government’s decision to take only half measures so far is rooted in the hope COVID-19 is not as bad as foreign experts fear. But, unless the leadership acknowledges the public health crisis and mitigates its economic impact, COVID-19 will accelerate Belarus’s slide back into international self-isolation. If combined with a humanitarian crisis, this will put the Belarusian regime under considerable stress.

This crisis does risk a new ‘Chernobyl moment’ for the authorities, but the population could react more vocally this time. As volunteers self-organise to fight the epidemic, it might become more difficult for the authorities to say that it is efficient in running the country. But the bottom line is Belarus desperately needs money. Whoever steps up to support Belarus financially will also be able to heavily influence its politics.

The recognition by Ukraine of the jurisdiction of the International Criminal Court (ICC) to consider grave crimes allegedly perpetrated in its territory has led to the ICC Prosecutor’s preliminary examination identifying a wave of alleged war crimes and crimes against humanity.

There are claims of persecution, forced conscription, deportation, sham trials, enforced disappearances, and property seizure - in Crimea. As well as killings, torture, inhuman treatment, sexual violence, and indiscriminate shelling - in Donbas. The court now needs to decide whether to open a full investigation which could lead to charges against specific individuals, as in the trial currently taking place in the Netherlands over MH-17.

However, the ICC does remain a court of last resort as Ukraine retains the principal power to prosecute grave violations perpetrated in its eastern regions and Crimea, with the court only stepping in if Ukraine (or another court with jurisdiction) is either unwilling or unable to do so.

As the evidence mounts up, Ukrainian investigators, prosecutors and judges are becoming more open to cooperation with foreign experts, law firms, human rights NGOs and younger domestic professionals - a significant proportion of whom are women.

Transformation shows determination

This is an unusual shift, given the rigid hierarchical nature of post-Soviet institutions, with elderly males in most of the top positions. The transformation shows the determination to see perpetrators of crimes in Crimea and Donbas tried by the ICC, with joint professional development trainings and joint communications about the alleged crimes.

Ukraine has also been strengthening its institutions. The Prosecutor’s Office of the Autonomous Republic of Crimea has been improving quality control of its war crime proceedings, and has taken a strong pro-ICC stance. The Office of the Prosecutor General established a special department to monitor the armed conflict proceedings, and two specialised war crime units have been formed in Donbas.

Although too early to assess progress - given recent prosecution reform and that much-needed legislation on international crimes is still pending – these are promising signs of Ukraine’s intent to take a specialised approach to armed conflict violations. And Ukrainian civil society organisations are also playing a more important role, documenting alleged crimes and sending evidence to the ICC.

Any intervention by the ICC in Ukraine also has a considerable impact on the wider dynamics of addressing international crimes, further extending the court’s reach beyond a focus on Africa which has attracted widespread criticism since it began in 2002.

The ICC has already opened investigations in Georgia, Bangladesh/Myanmar, and Afghanistan, with preliminary examinations in Colombia, Venezuela, Iraq/UK, Palestine, and The Philippines. But the Ukrainian case would further develop the European subtleties of the court’s jurisprudence.

Although the ICC is currently investigating the 2008 Russia-Georgia war, the active phase of that armed conflict lasted for just five days whereas Russia’s military involvement in Ukraine has been ongoing for the six years. The temporal difference in no way diminishes the suffering of victims and the necessity for the proper investigation, prosecution and compensation in the Georgian context.

And yet, going by even the preliminary findings of the ICC prosecutor, the spectrum of war crimes and crimes against humanity allegedly perpetrated in Ukraine is much wider. Some incidents, such as the illegal construction of the Crimean Bridge, is an amalgam of the violations against property, cultural heritage and the environment. Cumulatively, the Ukrainian and Georgian cases would substantially contribute to the development of the court’s emerging European lenses.

The Russia-Ukraine armed conflict is also the first instance of armed hostilities of such magnitude and duration in Europe since World War II and the Yugoslav Wars. The ICC’s readiness to take on such geopolitically challenging cases which leave itself open to attack will be tested.

But by examining new contexts - including Ukraine - the ICC would develop a more layered reading of the nature and scope of the crimes it works on. For example, alleged indoctrination and use of children by armed groups in eastern Ukraine is likely to differ from the known practices of abducting and recruiting child soldiers in Africa.

Investigating evidence of Russia’s persecution of pro-Ukrainian activists - forcing them out of Crimea - coupled with the creation of favourable conditions for Russian citizens to relocate to Crimea could lead to proving the existence of a policy of mass colonisation of the peninsula - adding new layers to the court’s jurisprudence on population displacement. And previously under-prosecuted crimes may come to the fore, such as attacks on cultural property or causing the destruction of the environment.

Although the ICC proceedings on Ukraine – along with those being held by the International Court of Justice (ICJ) - are unlikely to bring immediate results, Ukraine has developed an international adjudication strategy based on the available viable options and what can be practically delivered.

The simple act of a reputed international court outlining Russia’s alleged violations in Crimea and Donbas and naming those individually responsible would be an impactful achievement in itself, regardless of whether Russia pays any attention or compensation.

And any international judgments or those of domestic courts such as the Dutch MH-17 proceedings and Russia’s response - predicted to be non-compliance - is an important argument for continuing sanctions against Russia over its conduct in Ukraine.

The mutually reinforcing effect of both the Crimea and Donbas proceedings within Ukraine and at international courts should not be underestimated. These investigations into war crimes, terrorism and human rights issues are deeply relevant - not only for the conflict itself, but also for the development of international law.

Part One of this series assesses Ukraine’s efforts to hold Russia accountable as a state at the International Court of Justice (ICJ).

Ukrainians are accustomed to crisis. As COVID-19 spread, forest fires were raging in the Chernobyl exclusion zone, turning Kyiv into the most polluted city in the world. The fighting in Donbas continued, claiming the lives of more Ukrainian soldiers, bringing the total to more than 4,000 — and, on top of that, President Zelenskyy overhauled his government. So Ukraine is fighting three battles at the same time — war with Russia, the struggle against its own ineffective system, and now COVID-19.

Every crisis is a reality check — the coronavirus provoked and exposed the strategic vulnerabilities and deep-rooted features of Ukraine’s system of governance. Three trends have come to the fore. First, the inefficiency and paralysis of many state agencies, particularly the lack of coordination between them and the prevalence of vested interests. Second, the reliance of the country’s leaders on large financial-industrial groups (FIGs) to compensate for weak institutional capacity. Third, a strong societal and private sector mobilization to fill the gaps in the dilapidated public health system.

State agencies are rigid and ineffective. Despite the modern Prozorro digital public procurement system, and the government’s allocation of $2.5 million from the early days of the epidemic, the Ministry of Health blocked COVID-related purchases for over a month. This was a tactic by — now ex-minister — Yemets to pressure the state medical procurement agency into appointing a protégé of his as one of its deputy heads.

Lowest testing rate in Europe

Similarly, in some regions, notably Odesa, procurement stalled and orders went to politically connected businesses at higher-than-market prices. Lack of tests and laboratory equipment means Ukraine has administered only 72,000 tests within a population of 42 million to date — the lowest rate in Europe.

Doctors were given orders to ensure they only test patients in hospitals with COVID-19 symptoms and only those arriving from Asia, while ignoring the fact that millions of Ukrainian labour migrants were in Europe. Indeed, the first confirmed case was imported from Italy.

Ukrainian government and public health officials lack information to take informed decisions. There is no accurate electronic database of registered deaths and reporting is lagging behind events. Information on testing availability in the regions is missing.

Thirteen days after the first case of the virus was recorded, Zelenskyy exhorted business tycoons to come to the rescue. Taking a populist tone, Zelenskyy said ‘Ukraine has been feeding you for a long time and it is time that you helped the country’. The tycoons divided the regions among themselves to deliver relief efforts according to the location of their enterprises.

It is believed FIGs have donated around $25 million to procure testing kits, ventilators, personal protective equipment (PPE) and disinfectants. This may sound impressive, but many of those same tycoons actually owe millions to the state, some even billions, and cause serious problems by perpetuating the current rent-seeking system, where public resources benefit those groups resulting in serious social losses.

Reliance on these groups makes Zelenskyy a hostage to their favour in any potential reform efforts. It is a dangerous solution, as these tycoons often obstruct Ukraine’s economic development.

An alternative — and more transformative — trend of public-private partnerships is emerging in some regions. Across Ukraine, hundreds of small- and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) have led efforts to deliver PPE, support the vulnerable with food supplies, and to procure ventilators for key hospitals.

They have mobilised hundreds of volunteers to deliver assistance and partnered with local non-profits. Fundraising initiatives have begun in Lviv, Odesa, Kyiv and Poltava with donations and expenditure has been posted online for transparency. Companies have repurposed to produce PPE kits and medical equipment. The efforts unfolded quickly and, in some cases, in smooth collaboration with municipal and regional authorities.

Ukraine cannot afford to ‘waste’ this crisis, which could help accelerate healthcare reform, decentralization, modernize governance, and boost citizen empowerment. But for this to happen, the country has to deploy a ‘smart response’.

Such ‘smart response’ means applying a resilience framework that nurtures the agility of the system of governance, ensures a diversity of actors in decision-making, supporting both self-regulation and better coordination. Rather than reaching out to tycoons, Zelenskyy should enter a coalition with true agents of change — SME leaders, volunteers, and mayors who have mobilized effective grassroots action. These actors demand a level playing field with accountable governance and effective state institutions.

Civic COVID-19 response hubs and local authorities should be joined in a network that spans the regions, and connected with the national agencies designing pandemic responses. For a national strategy to be effective, central headquarters should draw information from local communities and manage a ‘team of teams’ in a decentralised fashion.

Ensuring effective public service delivery without compromising integrity and keeping the risk of corruption low should also be a priority of political reform, with volunteers and the private sector ensuring civic oversight of both regional and national funding.

Civic engagement such as this can be transformative as it defies the Soviet legacy of paternalism and expands the belief among citizens that society can work for them. By assisting the relief effort, citizens are gaining valuable insights into quality of public services and participate in holding them to account.

Citizens are also developing a better understanding of the purpose of having effective armed forces, police, border guards and modern hospitals. They are coming to understand the value of taxpayer money and witnessing how corruption erodes institutions.

This survival mobilization — if properly harnessed by the state — could drive transformative change and make Ukraine more resilient, not just against present crises, but future ones too.